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#no because that man is the support system I need
kiwiaok · 3 days
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one more bit from “my love mine all mine” bc I’m actually kinda proud of how I captured drugged andrew’s thought process:
Everything's so damn funny lately. Kevin's desperation to get him to care about exy, the scarecrow of the man that hides under the name Neil, Wymack looking at him like he might be worth something more than the knives hidden under his armbands. And the pills, especially those little bastards. They're so funny they squeeze involuntary giggles through his teeth all the time.
It's truly hilarious that after so many survived years, Andrew is still just a naïve little kid on the inside. That all his truths still crumble when faced with reality. Andrew thought that even if his choices and body were never his, at least his mind was his own. That he could always take shelter in the privacy of his own head, that this was the one thing he would always have control over. And he fought for it, too. It's why he actually cooperated with Bee - he decided that he wouldn't allow anything, not memories and not past experiences to take control over his thoughts. Now, the pills laugh at him from where he sees them out of the corner of his eye.
Andrew laughs right back at them, dizzy and nauseous. It's like he has been spinning for a long time, and he can't stop. His thoughts cycle constantly, wildly; blue pills, blue eyes, blue like cyan, that's like cyanide, one of the symptoms of the poisoning is shortness of breath and tinnitus, tinnitus, there is always ringing in his ears but he doesn't know if it's from screaming or laughing and he doesn't know if it's coming from his own mouth or from other's and he doesn't know when was the last time he could take a full breath and there are maggots crawling under his skin, and he wants to cut himself open and pluck them out one by one, but he's not allowed, and he's not allowed to stop either, to pause, to breathe, to think.
Frankly, it's exhausting. Constant racing thoughts, a constant stream of feelings fabricated entirely from those funny little pills. Every time he's fed one of those, on a schedule, like a fucking dog, he obediently swallows and then imagines little blue, cyan pills dancing around in his brain. Andrew doesn't think that's the drugs' desired effect, but he doesn't say anything. Enough words fall unbidden from his mouth these days.
He stays quiet and never alone and never in control, just him and the dancing pills, spinning, spinning like on a carousel, and oh he was on a carousel once with Cass, Cass like Cassandra, that database management system that supports computer clusters, Andrew knows because he read about it once and now his mind will never let him forget and Andrew thinks he needs a Cassandra for his brain to manage all clusters of his memories and then he remembers that he needed Cass too, not that long ago, Cass the person, not the database system and he wanted her to stay but where Cass was there was Drake and there were hands dancing on his skin, dancing just like those little pills and isn't that so funny? It seems funny. Everything's so damn funny lately.
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My 4th shot of Espresso~~~~Alastor x Reader
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Sinners being sinners, Anxietyy descriptors, some swear words, high amounts of caffeine consumption, alcohol consumption
Type: Story ( I had no control again and I made it so long)
Word Count: 6944
Playlist: Espresso- Sabrina Carpenter
Prompt: The reader was a singer in her past life, well-known in the human world for her sweet, sultry voice before her untimely death. The people of the overworld would say she was like a shot of espresso to your system. Now, in Pentagram City, a particular radio demon can't help but seek out his next caffeine high.
Notes: I will not lie to everyone; I am a hardcore Sabrina Carpenter fan. She is one of the few artists outside my regular music routine. She has a grip on me and my reptile brain.
Her song Espresso got me thinking of one Radio Demon specifically. The 1900s was a big time for coffee production (in the US, where I am from), mainly due to Prohibition, and it just so happens that right around the 1920s, espresso machines were introduced heavily in America. The FDA also recommends not going over 6 shots of Espresso, but many health professionals say not to go over 3 shots, so I will meet in the middle here.
My 4th shot of Espresso~~~~Alastor x Reader
The day you died was tragic indeed for all parties involved. Your deranged stalker who killed you now serves life in prison, your fans continue to broadcast your music regularly, crying their eyes out, and your record label is on the hunt for the next ‘Hit’ girl. The only problem was you were a one-of-a-kind, naturally gifted with vocal cords, so sweet and sultry everyone fell for you. Your varying music genres make you an addiction to almost any music fanatic. You were the singer of your time. 
How did you keep that title for so long? Simply put, due to becoming the designated ‘shot of espresso everyone needs to wake up and have a good day,’ your fans were less than kind to any new artists or rising stars. You were an Angle, sweet inside and out, never letting your fame get to your head. However, many scandals and theories have been made that people can never surpass you because you sold your soul or hired people to knock down your competition. None of this was true, though. You were simply a bystander to your fan's actions, not wanting to seem unthankful for all the support that got you there.
Then it happened: your death. One minute, you were walking to the coffee shop by your apartment in the city when a strange man started yelling at you. Of course, the one day you don’t have a bodyguard leave with you, the paparazzi show up. If only that man were a paparazzi; as he got closer, you noticed the lack of camera, the deranged look in his eyes, and the shirt he wore saying, ‘Y/N be my wife.’ All you could think of doing at that moment was trying to make some distance between you and him, seeing as the streets were barren since it was late at night. Why did your best music writing have to happen late at night? Running as fast as you could, the man grew angry, and then bam, next thing you know, you wake up on the streets of a city, not your city; no, this was too red.
As you stood up from your prone position, you glanced at a window only to see not you standing there; well, it was you. It looked like you, but it also didn't look like you. Soft tan skin, chocolate brown hair, Hazel eyes, and a white, tan, and brown outfit adorned your body. You looked like the embodiment of the coffee you would drink at your go-to coffee spot. If only you hadn’t gone there that night. Maybe you would be your normal (E/c), (H/c), (S/c) self. 
Thinking hard about everything that happened, you remember being chased, him yelling obscenities at you, being shoved to the ground, something warm on your face, then a loud bang noise. What was that bang? You only remember the warm, sticky feeling, probably blood from hitting your head on the curb, then you fought a bit, squirming around; the bang must have been a concealed weapon of your assailant's choice. Jeeze, people are crazy…Oh fuck, your dead. You died. Gone. A memory. As this realization came to you, you began walking the streets of this new city.
All the inhabitants of this place looked like those demons you would see on TV or even read about in books. Looking up at the horizon, you see a large building with a flashing sign called the “Hazbin Hotel,” a giant ball to the left that looked like it had wings on it, and above you, a giant pentagram. The pieces finally clicked: you were in Hell, but why you were the sweetest human alive, even fame, didn’t get to you. Maybe Heaven reads tabloids and assumes you did participate in the fate of many of your rivals or that they thought you were a greedy pop star. Sighing softly, you turn your back on the hotel and make your way to the first place that helped you start up in the human world: a cheap manager at a cheap venue. 
~~~Years Later~~~
Years had passed since Mimzy and her crew had taken you in. She was the only demon in Pentagram City that didn’t ask for your soul immediately. Course, as you found out yourself, it’s because her soul, too, was taken from her. Meeting Mimzy was a breath of fresh air; she reminded you of your grandmother and all the pictures you saw of her singing and dancing at nightclubs when she was your age. Mimzy took you under her wing, gave you a palace to sing your sweet new music, and protected you with her clientele. Mimzy did have a habit of getting herself into some deep shit, though. Nothing you couldn’t help with, see as your popularity in Pentagram City grew, so did your powers. Some even compared you to Lilith when she was still around, a voice to conjoin the masses. You were no Lilith; you were simply ‘Y/N,’ so you compromised for a reprise of your old title: ‘ A shot of espresso to keep you going.’ Honestly, who knew demons still partook in human drinks and activities? 
As you began preparing for your next act at Mimzy’s club, said woman entered your dressing room. “Doll, oh, look at you so gorgeous. You're not as gorgeous as me, but you're still amazing. I have big news for ya’ Come and sit with me, deary.” Following Mimzy’s orders, you went to the small sofa in your Dressing Room and sat with her. “What is it, Mimz? Did you get in more trouble with those loan sharks? I told you they are dangerous; this owner of your soul is a real slow ass seeing as I have to save their ‘precious’ soul over and over again.” 
Mimzy just laughed, waving her hand in your face, resituating herself to look you in the eye before speaking again: " Don't worry about that doll. Of course, I would keep that opinion to yourself. He’s back and probably can hear everything around us. Speaking of which, that is why I came here. My dear friend Alastor and the princess of hell are coming to visit our lovely establishment. Make sure to knock their socks off!” 
You nodded softly to Mimzy, laughing at her; she was a firecracker of energy—a troublemaker, yes, but a firecracker of energy. Mimzy quickly excused herself, saying she needed to be ready to meet her guests and introduce the acts for the night. You sighed softly, returning to double-check your makeup and clothes again. 
Looking like a gorgeous espresso martini, as Mimzy calls it, you stood center stage, waiting for the curtain to rise. You hear Mimzy’s tiny heels hitting the stage and some mic feedback. “Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you our star of the stage, your shot of espresso to boost you through hard times, our dame so beautiful and sweet, Y/N.” Cheers erupted in the audience as the curtain rose and a soft amber spotlight landed on you. 
Looking out into the audience, you hesitated for a minute. A handsome man in a red suit sat in the center of the tables. He looked like a deer, not the oddest thing you have seen in the city. The way he was looking at you, though, was intense. You felt the need to cringe and back away like his power exceeded that of an average Sinner. He looked dominating, powerful, and scary even though he had a giant smile plastered on his face. Next to him sat a young-looking girl with big red cheeks. She looked so happy to be present at this event. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun on her head, with a black crown adoring her. Your boss, Mimzy, was on the other side of the smiling demon, giving you a big thumbs up. 
You took a deep breath when the song started to play on the drums and guitar behind you. You began to sing the song that had never been released to the public before you died. This was an important night for Mimzy, so why not go all out? As you began to sing, the nerves washed off of you, and you started to do your choreography, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of deep red eyes following your every move. As the song ended, you stopped center stage again, a soft, elegant smile gracing your face. “ Thank you so much, everyone. That was called Espresso, and I do hope you all enjoyed it. I will freshen up; please enjoy our band as they play some classic and new hits throughout the ages.” As you bowed and motioned to the band, they began to play. You walked off the stage, quickly stopping at your dressing room before heading to the floor and meeting the others at their table. 
You finally heard this mysterious, powerful demon's voice as you approached the table. “I never took you as the kind to allow other music in your establishment, Mimzy. Weren’t you also one always found of our time's music.” Mimzy just laughed, slapping the demon's arm. Stopping behind the group, you noticed the demon's ears pull back; he knew you were there, good. You cleared your throat for the others and spoke gently, “I’m sorry. Was there a problem with my song, sir? I didn't realize I would be in the presence of a music critic in hell.” 
The tension in the club could be cut with a knife as the demon let out a soft laugh and turned to view you. The young girl beside him was visibly panicking while Mimzy held a laugh back. The demon stood, bowing slightly and extending his hand to you. “Well, dear Y/N, it's nice to meet you. My name is Alastor the Radio Demon, and if you would like to call me whatever it was, you just made music by all means; I must be your critic.” That smile on his face never faltered. It stayed plastered there, if not a little more strained. Gently taking Alastors hand, you curtsied for him and stood straight and tall again, preparing to speak. “Well, Mr. Alastor, you don't seem to have good music taste, seeing as I am a prized singer in hell.” The two of you stared intensely at one another, sparks flying between your eyes. Mimzy cleared her throat, “ Y/N, this is Alastor, as he mentioned, the demon that owns my soul; he also runs the Hazbin Hotel with Miss Charlie Morningstar here.” 
You let go of Alastors hand, breaking eye contact first to greet the young girl. Charlie was the polar opposite of ‘Mr. Music Critic’. She compliments you and tells you how you reminded her of her mother, who has been missing for seven years. Keeping conversation with Charlie, Alastor, and Mimzy began to speak on the side. “Isn’t she interesting, Alastor? She had to have been powerful even in her human form. She may not be your level of scary, but she is something. When I found her within a month, Valentino had come to claim her and ask for her soul; she whooped him physically and mentally; she's quick-witted and cunning.” Alastor nodded knowingly; this could be advantageous to him. 
“Mimzy darling, why have you not sold her off yet? Could make a pretty penny off of her, maybe enough to pay me back for your soul.” Alastor stared at you intently. He couldn’t deny you were attractive in a beauty standard since, and the fact you weren’t afraid of him even if he dominated you in power was intriguing. Mimzy slapped Alastor’s shoulder, “She's like a daughter to me; she's sweet, smart, and a helluva singer. Why would I risk losing business here selling her off to the Vees or any other overlord.”
Tuning into Mimzy’s and Alastor's conversation, you turned to look at the Radio Demon in the eyes once more. “She also can’t get rid of me due to the fact I save her ass more so than you ever have or will.” The authority in your voice even frightened you. The smile on Alastors face tightened more, changing from boredom to interest. “Oh, is that so doll? You save my property for me.” You nod curtly to the demon holding his gaze. The smile slowly morphed into a smirk. Charlie chimes in, “Well, guys, it looks like we have overstayed our welcome; Y/N, you were phenomenal. Please let me know whenever you have your next performance. You have my number!” You nod softly to the cheerful girl before returning to the Radio Demon. 
As you all begin to stand from your seats, Alastor disappears and reappears at your side. “Ms. Y/N, it seems I have a business proposition for you. As Charlie loved your performance so much and I seem to have bad taste in music, how about we strike a deal? You come to the hotel and live there for free; you can sing once a week, and if you can pull in some more sinners looking to be redeemed, I will admit you have the better music. I will also allow you to broadcast your music on my radio.” You stared at the demon timidly, but no one made a deal that didn’t involve losing their soul. You brace yourself for the answer and speak purposefully, “What is it for you if I lose?” Alastor smiled at you menacingly, “I get your soul, of course, and you will do my bidding.” 
You hesitated, contorting your face slightly; losing your soul was not something you wanted to happen; no one did. You looked between Alastor and Mimzy rapidly, a slight panic overcoming you. As you go to speak, Charlie takes your place, “ Alright, Alastor, enough scaring people; we are leaving now. Let's go.” Alastor looked at Charlie before looking back at you. He nods slightly before saying, “I will return in the morning. Have your decision ready.” With that said, the duo left the club.
The night continued like normal; you sang a couple more songs and mulled over the conversation. You won't lie even if you were sweet on earth. Being here in hell made you a lot more prideful than when you were alive. Had someone offered such a stupid bet in the human world, you would politely decline, move on, and let your fans handle them. Alastor, though, something about him and this stupid condescending attitude made your blood boil. As the night closed, you came up with your decision. You went to your dressing room and began to pack a bag for the morning. You were so wrapped in your thoughts hating that stupid Radio Demon that you didn't hear Mimzy walk in. As you finished packing and turned around, Mimzy sat on your couch, a frown on her face. Setting everything down, you walked over to her and sat with her. 
Mimzy looked at you softly, her regular, boisterous exterior fading as her calmer interior emerged. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have done this. I only invited them to show Al how much better I was doing even after his absence. I didn’t expect him to bargain your soul with him.” You gently grabbed Mimzy's hand and looked at her, “Mimz, I got this. I am one of the best singers in hell. I will not lose my soul, and maybe I can bargain him into freeing your soul-” Before you could finish your thought, Mimzy stood up, tears in her eyes, “NO Y/N! You-You don't understand; Alastor is a notorious and powerful demon. He won’t give up mine or your soul. There is always an underlying bargain in his deals.” You looked up at Mimzy. She had never yelled at you like that before, even after ruining her favorite pink dress. Mimzy sat down gently and hugged you close before letting go. “Let me tell you Al’s story, the best I know of it anyway.” 
Even after hearing Mimzy’s story, you are set on proving yourself. Why did you feel the need to? You could only chalk it up to wanting to wipe that stupid smile off the demon's face. You stood outside the entrance of Mimzy’s club, holding her hand. “Y/N, you don't have to do this. Just ignore him.” You shook your head at Mimzy before responding. “I can do this, Mimzy. Trust me. You know where I am if you ever need me.” She nods somberly and hugs you close. The Radio Demon appears out of the shadows as you two part ways. “Hello ladies, Y/N, Mimzy, what a touching display of affection. Are you ready to strike our deal, Y/N?” You nod gently, extending your hand to the demon. With a soft chuckle, he grabbed your hand. Greenlight erupted all around you. Shadows and relic symbols appeared around you as the deal was bound. As the green lights faded, you were sucked into the shadows with Alastor and taken to a Hotel on the other side of Pentagram City. 
The hotel was lovely, nothing too overwhelming like when you were still alive. It was quaint and adorable. You could tell that Charlie put her heart into the place. Walking through the entrance to your left, you notice a bar with a black and grey cat sitting there drinking. Taking the initiative and having the desire to start already pissing the Radio Demon off, you walked away to greet the cat. “Hello, there one espresso martini, please; my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be a new resident and singer for the hotel.” Hearing your words, the cat looked up at you, practically spitting his whiskey onto the bar before collecting himself and cleaning up. In a gruff voice, he responded, “Never thought I would see the day we got more willing redeemers. Thought Sir Pentious would be our only one.” 
You laughed, covering your mouth politely as the cat put your drink before you. As he finished wiping the bar down, Alastor appeared behind you. “Ahhhh, good friend, you have met our new resident artist. Y/N, this is Husk or Husker, as some patrons call him.” You nodded politely to the cat demon, sipping your drink. Alastor sat next to you, staring the cat down. He acted like it was a sin that Husk even talked to you. As you finished your glass, a spider demon walked into the building, groaning about his day at work, sitting on your other side, and ordering a straight martini.
As he rose his head up, looking to great Alastor, he saw you. “WOAH toots, who are ya’ you gorgeous? I didn’t know another pretty thing like me walked these streets.” You smiled sweetly at the spider demon, sticking your hand out to shake his hand. You liked him. He had spunk. “My name is Y/N, and I am the new resident singer of this joint.” Silence filled the room; the spider demon's eyes widened. Looking at him confused, you pulled your hand back and awkwardly sat there. Behind you, Alastors voice rang, “Yes, dear flamboyant friend, that Y/N, the one who took Valentino down a few pegs before he became part of the Vees.” 
The spider's smile grew ten times as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Toots, let's be best friends, deal. My name is Angel Dust. It's a pleasure to meet you.” You laughed softly, connecting that this Angel Dust might be the soul of that awful month. “Deal, I need new friends now that I am out of Mimzys club.” Husker dropped his bottle, causing a shattering noise as he turned to stare down Alastor. “You were Mimzy’s singer; what are you doing here?” Alastor stared down Husker, the ever-growing smile present on his face as power exuded off of him. “Simple Husk, can’t you tell she's in a deal with me.” The room went silent as you looked down at your hands. Based on everyone's reactions, you soon realized you were fucked. 
The tension was thick between the three of you, Angel silent, not daring to interfere in a soul contract, Husker glaring at Alastor, and the Radio Demon eating up everyones distrust. What felt like hours passing was only a few minutes when Charlie and another woman appeared walking down the stairs. “I am telling you, Vaggie, I heard a new voice.” Your eyes connected with Charlie when she let out an excited squeal, barreling down to you. You laughed softly, happy the tension was broken, and hugged the excited girl back. “Oh my goodness, you came here! Are you trying to be redeemed? I am so excited! Vaggie, this is the singer I told you about!” You looked at the other girl and waved at her. When Alastor stood, she nodded back, getting ready to speak to you; however, Alastor had removed Charlie from your embrace. “Sorry, dear Charlie, but Y/N is part of my deal. She will be a new singer for the hotel, as Husk is the bartender, and Niffty the cleaner.” 
As if hearing her name, a tiny, child-looking demon crawled from the depths of somewhere and sat on Alastors shoulder. “Wowie lady, you must sing well for Alastor to vouch for you. You aren’t no bad boy, but you look like you could be tough.” You stood wide-eyed in shock at the minor demon that seemed to spawn into existence. Alastor stood beside you, shooing Niffty off him and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Alright, dear Y/N, why don’t I show you to the drawing room where you will perform? You have three days before your big performance.” Everyone looked at the hand placed on your shoulder, confusion laced on their faces. Was Alastor, not a touchy person? All you’ve known of this man was for him to be touching you in some dominating way. You nodded briefly, following the demon to the drawing room. 
You had been practicing hard for the last three days. You met Sir Pentious while in the middle of a practice performance. He was apparently your biggest fan and regularly played your music in his blimp. You signed some autographs for him and told him he was welcome to come and watch whenever he felt like it. Of course, he never did come back while you were practicing. Angel Dust said Alastor frightened the snake demon, who was “getting too close to you and distracting you.” This only confused you: why is Alastor so against any demon getting close to you except for the striking spider demon? Two, why does he care if you get distracted? Shouldn’t he want you to lose so he can keep your soul? These thoughts plagued your mind every day as you practiced. You decided to do a four-song set, your three most popular songs and the new one you debuted at Mimzys place before you left, as a nod back to your old home. 
Throughout your days here, you have noticed so many odd quirks about these residents, but nothing too crazy. I mean, it is hell after all. Angel Dust was a famed porn star for Valentino; Husker used to gamble at the high-end casino in town; Nifty liked cock roaches; Charlie and Vaggie were fighting with Heaven about Sinners being redeemed. Even Sir Pentious had a past saying he tried to kill Alastor, which made you laugh and congratulate the snake demon. The only major oddball was Alastor; every resident said he was acting different, more pompous, possessive, and aggressive. Before you showed up in his life, he was just a condescending asshole who smiled all the time and had a wicked sarcasm streak. 
What made you special? You have been nothing but mean to this man, trying to get a rise out of him and knock him down a few pegs. The main consense from every resident after they learned of your deal is to be careful; he's a master manipulator. The tidbits of information you learned of Alastor were as follows: he hosted a radio show that, up until seven years ago, played screams of his victims; he still very much missed the 1920s; Jazz was his favorite music, makes sense why he hated your pop music, and lastly like any true child of the bayou he enjoyed his coffee, his coffee with three shots of espresso. No wonder the man was wired 24/7. 
Alastor was also not a touchy man; the only person any resident had seen him touch so constantly was you. Why? No one knows the answer; Angel Dust has his theories that he “has the hots for ya toots.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that notion. The pompous, rude, robust, attractive, funny, charismatic Deer Demon didn't have a thing for you. Okay, yes, you have a thing for him, though; what changed in the three days of getting close to him and everyone else? You have no real idea; you only know that the day you realized you had more than aggressive feelings for him was two nights ago.
~~~Flashback~~~
You had been summoned to the famed radio tower by Alastor. He had a treat for you, as he put it. Following Niffty's instructions, you ended up before the radio demon's door. Now you heard the rumors already he killed and broadcasted in his tower. Did your deal mean nothing? Was it a ruse to get rid of someone with a little bit of power? You must have been standing there for too long in your thoughts because before you knew it, Alastor had opened the door for you. “Ah, dear Y/N, come on in. We have a broadcast to get to.” You nodded gently and followed him inside. 
Taking your place beside Alastor, you notice how cluttered his desk is. You stifle a laugh; the thought of the infamous radio demon who looked so clean and polished having anything untidy amused you. You see Alastor pouring his regular coffee as you turn to the small end table with some chairs. “Alastor, I never would have taken you for a coffee drinker. You seem more refined to like English teas or other sophisticated drinks.”
Alastor just looked at you with a small, unstrained smile. As he finished his drink and poured you one, he said, “Nonsense dear Y/N coffee is highly sophisticated; Louisiana was a large export of coffee grounds we lived for this drink. Coffee was the way to go when we needed to work long hours tending to fields or making ends meet at factories.” You nodded gently, amazed that this man remembered his life so well after so long. While you sat and drank your coffee, Alastor got up to prepare the broadcast. While he was busy, you took this time to examine the Deer Demon in more detail. 
He was handsome; his fringe was odd but suited him well, the unforced smile looked attractive, and his suit was perfectly fitted, leaving just enough imagination about what lay underneath. As you caught yourself having this thought, you shook your head, setting your cup down violently. Alastor turned to look at you, his smile still soft but a questioning look in his eyes. You coughed softly into your napkin and stood to meet Alastor at his desk before speaking. “So Al, what is it you need of me.” His reaction to the nickname did not go unnoticed.
Now, the original reason you decided to use the nickname he hated was to get under his skin, but instead of doing that, he smiled at you wider. Gently, he placed a microphone and headphones in your hand. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. “I believe that for people to know you are here at the hotel and will sing, they need a sample. We may have a deal on the line, but I am no cheater.” You nodded, smiling at him; maybe he wasn’t so bad. As the broadcast started, though, the same pompous ass hole came out. Boasting about being missed and how he can't wait to give Sinners of hell an actual broadcast, he introduced you. “Now, my dear patrons, I introduce Y/N. Some of you may know her and even love her, but tonight she will be singing a song for you, a taste into her performance that will be happening here at the Hazbin Hotel in two days.” 
You gripped the microphone and started singing one of your more classic songs. Only the people at Mimzys club that night had heard the new song, and you didn't want to ruin the surprise you had been working on for your concert. As you sang, you couldn’t help but notice the red eyes boring into you. Was Alastor checking you out? No, of course not. This is just to even out the deal. However, how his eyes softened and he hummed gently to your tune made your heart flutter. He sure learned one of your songs for someone who hated your music. 
As you finished your part in his broadcast, Alastor played some old-time Jazz, muting the mics before leading you out the door. You said your goodnights and began to walk away when Alastor grabbed your arm. You turned to look at him, a sweet, innocent look in your eyes; a part of you wanted him to kiss you right there. However, you could see his conflict. After a few seconds of staring at one another, Alastor let go of your arm and cleared his throat, “Good night, Y/N. Be prepared for our deal.” You nodded, and before you could ask him what was wrong, the door was closed and locked in your face.
~~~Present Day~~~
The day you had finally come for your concert. You had spent most of the day resting and preparing for the show. It had been over a week since your last live performance. You took your time getting prepared, wanting everything to be perfect. You double-checked your hair outfit and even dabbed on an old perfume you found while shopping with Angel. Did you buy this specific sent because it was trendy in the 1920s? No, of course not. You weren't trying to impress the famed Radio Demon during your performance tonight. It finally dawned on you as you did your last touches. You either become soulless tonight or beat the Radio Demon. A shiver ran down your back; you were so caught up in falling for the man that you forgot he was ruthless and owned you now. It's not that you minded the owning part; you minded the soulless part. 
A soft knock was heard at your door, and you released a quiet “come in.” As you turned from your vanity to see who had entered, before you stood, Mimzy, you ran to your mentor and hugged her close. “You came, you came. I thought you would be too mad at me to come.” Mimzy slapped your shoulder gently before speaking. “When have I missed one of your shows since you started working for me? Plus, Alastor personally invited me and gave me a front seat. I don’t know if it's to torment me that he's going to take your soul or if mister Deer likes you.” Mimzy began nudging your side. You stifled an almost forced laugh, your cheeks growing warm. “Mimzy, you need to lay off the alcohol. That is an absurd statement. Alastor doesn’t like me.” She gave you a knowing look. “You may think he doesn’t like you, but I can tell you sure like him.” You looked away at the floor.
Mimzy gave you a few more encouraging words before returning to the drawing room. According to Mimzy, there was already a large number of people filling the place. Charlie must be going nuts trying to recruit people. With a final glance in the mirror, you began to walk to your call point. Instead of your average tan and brown ensemble, you wore an elegant blood-red dress for tonight's performance. One that just so happened to be in your closet this morning when you started to get ready. You did your hair up and let some pieces frame your face, your makeup soft and subtle, giving you a sweet, angelic look.
Charlie introduced you to the crowd; as you took center stage and waited for everyone to calm down, you began your set. You looked out to the crowd like you did all those nights ago, and sitting right in front of you were your new friends and him. He didn’t look smug or dominating this time. No, this time, he looked calm and compassionate. Even if you looked hard enough, it almost looked like he was enjoying himself. He wore a suit practically identical to your dress in color. You promoted the hotel between each song as you sang. Your first three songs went perfectly, keeping the crowd entertained to the fullest as you always did. Once your last song died down, the crowd erupted. 
A slow interlude played as you spoke softly: "I wrote this last song a long time ago when I was alive. I have only sung this song once at Mimzy Speakeasy, so if you were one of the lucky few to hear it, please feel free to sing along and enjoy it to the fullest this time.” You smiled softly before landing your eyes on Alastor. You don’t know what possessed you to sing this song, looking directly at him, but you couldn’t help it. You felt compelled, too. As the begging notes to Espresso started playing, a small group of people cheered, including Charlie. 
You began your normal choreography and sang your heart out, never taking your eyes off of Alastor for long, and from what you saw, he never took his eyes off of you for long, either. Singing your heart out as you finished the outro of the song you posed, letting the cheers and lights fade out. Charlie rushed to the stage and informed everyone about food, refreshments, and signing up to join the hotel. You, however, hid behind the curtains, blushing. Why was he looking at you so intently? Why were you suddenly so shy and concerned you sang poorly? You always had confidence in your singing.
Collecting yourself, you quickly refreshed your look in the bathroom before joining the after/recruiting party. As you were going down the hotel hall to get to the main part of the drawing room, an uneasy feeling hit you. An anxious, familiar feeling. You turn your head, and down the hall, you see a man making his way towards you. You turn around and keep walking, ignoring his shouts as you try to beeline for the entryway. You are panting at this point, memories of your death coming back to you, everything feeling too close to that moment. Just as you are about to turn the corner into the doors for the drawing room, the man reaches out for you. You brace for impact; however, nothing happens. You hear sickly screams emanating from before you as a pair of arms gently encase you in a protective embrace. As you open your eyes, you see shadows tearing the man who looked to be a part of the Vees team apart. Alastor covered your eyes before walking you back towards your room.
You didn’t even realize you had begun to cry or shake when you got to your room. The anxiety of reliving that night you died catching up to you. Alastor never let you go, even after you got to the safety of your room. Once you calmed down, Alastor went to the bathroom connected to your room. You sat there holding your face in your hands, probably looking like a mess from your actions. Alastor re-entered the room and brought you a fresh, damp towel. “To wash your face off; you probably don’t want all that on you anymore.” You nodded softly and began to wipe your face. Alastor scoffed, then took the towel from you, crouching down. Alastor gently held your face and began to clean it off. You two never broke eye contact. He was so gentle.
After your face was cleaned, Alastor took the pins out of your hair and went to find some more comfortable clothes for you. You were ushered into the bathroom and began to change when, through the door, Alastor began to speak. “Did he hurt you at all? I tried to get there as fast as I could. Before you came on, Mimzy was telling me about the night you died. I assume the Vees and their minions must have overheard and, in an attempt to weaken your resolve, make you remember that night.” You sniffled lightly, slowly opening the door, and you looked up at Alastor. Where was a man like him when you died? No, where was he when you passed that night? A choked sob left your lips as you hugged him close to you, crying into his shoulder. Alastor was amiss on what to do, but slowly, as you cried, wrapped his arms around you as well. 
As the tears faded, a green glow surrounded you and Alastor again, like when you first made the deal. No one signed up for Charlie's hotel, whether because the demon was mutilated one door over or because you didn’t come to socialize with the guests. It didn’t matter; Alastor had your soul now. Oddly enough, you weren’t as upset by this as you anticipated; you were happy about this. You felt safe, protected even. 
Alastor bid his farewell to you after you had finally calmed down. Neither one of you speaking about the contract or lost deal. You lay in bed, exhausted from all the crying and anxiety. As you drifted off to sleep, you saw your assailant again. This wasn’t an uncommon dream for you, but this time, it hurt worse due to the raw emotions. However, just as you were about to die again for the millionth time in this dream, a man dressed in red with brown hair and a soft smile protected you and saved you. 
You had been asleep for a little less than 24 hours when you woke next. Your body needed a recharge. You made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee; if you were staying at the hotel to sing, you could start putting together new songs and programs. You made your drink, noticing that Alastor's cup was missing from the cabinet. Taking your hot coffee back upstairs, you passed the hall to your room when you heard a piano playing your song Espresso. 
You made your way to the door and entered quietly to find Alastor playing your song, humming quietly in tune. You knocked gently and said, " Al, if you wanted a concert yourself, I would have given you one.” You smile softly. Alastor, unfazed by your appearance, probably already knowing you were there, hummed in amusement before speaking. “As a thank you, why don’t we perform a duet for me saving you?”  You made your way over to the piano, sitting down next to him and setting your coffee cup next to his on the piano. 
He began to play the start of the song, and you two began to sing together. Softly, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with your feelings for the man next to you. You had never sung this song like this before, and it felt special between you two. Some of you began to believe that this song was made for you and Alastor. Before you died, you knew you would meet your match—someone who met you as an equal yet also an opposite. Alastor finished the last few notes of the song. Comfortable silence surrounds you. 
Alastor smiled more naturally, “You know, Y/N, I do like your music. It did catch me off guard the first time I heard it, but your music has a lot of truths in it.” You look up at him from his shoulder, listening to his words. “From the moment I looked at you, I couldn’t get enough of you; when I met you, and you challenged me almost instantly, I knew I had to have you. You keep me awake at night thinking about everything that has happened between us in the last few weeks.” You smile softly, thinking back to the lyrics of your song. You lean up gently and place a kiss on Alastors cheek. He laughs softly when he turns to look at you thoroughly. “I’m sorry, doll, but you may have misunderstood me. I like you a lot; I feel that deserves more than a mere peck on the cheek.” You laugh wholeheartedly, this time without covering it up, before placing a soft, chaste kiss on Alastors lips. You pulled back, both of you smiling. “Now that’s an espresso I would happily take any time.” You laugh at his antics before placing your hands on the piano, now playing an old song you remembered from when you were a kid. 
All was well. Who would challenge the infamous Radio Demon, especially now that he had the notorious addictive ‘Espresso’ singer as his girlfriend? With your powers combined, he could overcome the deal he made, but that is a story for another time.
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8rujaa · 14 days
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my therapist really saved me….
#tw abuse // tw sa#i can’t sleep bc i keep thinking about this.#like i probably would’ve not been here if it weren’t for her#i started seeing her january of 2023… my life has changed entirely since then and she was definitely the one who got the ball rolling#literally so much has changed since then and it’s all because of her#i was so dissociated during our first few sessions#thanks to her i was able to get diagnosed and medicated for adhd. i was able to realize i was in an abusive situation and plan a way out#i was able to focus on myself and my healing and she’s helped me reframe so much of my negative thinking#i was able to process a lot of emotions and become a better version of myself with each session#she’s truly incredible.#i remember the first comment she made about the relationship had been ‘’so it’s like there’s an imbalance of control in the relationship’’#i had put my partners on such a high pedestal that i had no idea they could be doing anything wrong#and i asked her what she meant and she said ‘from what you’ve been describing it’s sounds like a strict parents and child type of dynamic’#she told me they didn’t need to understand why i wanted to leave and they didn’t need to make that decision. if that’s what was going to be#best for me the only thing i could do is let them know my reasoning and simply leave. i didn’t need their permission.’’#i remember being so confused at that realization bc like… i had been putting their emotions over mine the whole time i had forgotten simply#doing what’s best for me was an option… l#ever since then i’ve been putting myself first and it’s been a steady uphill from rock bottom… i’ve made an incredible amount of progress#when i first started with her getting out of bed and walking to the kitchen was incredibly difficult and took all my strength.#yesterday i conquered a mountain!!!!!!! i hiked all the way to the top!!!!! :D#me a year ago thought it was going to take me years and years to recover. as soon as i left i made leaps of progress#im incredibly proud of myself and grateful for her. and my reiki lady she’s also been a great great help.#the silver lining is i realized who really matters. and the relationships i cared about deepened.#my sweet virgo friend was the one who was always like ‘THATS A GROWN ASS MAN WHO CANT UNDERSTAND BASIC CONSENT???’#LMFAO i would be like ‘but he has trauma and bla bla bla’ she looked me dead in the eyes and said#’jess you said with your last boyfriend that you would never make excuses for a man who was hurting you again. stop defending him.’#she’s really a gem and i treasure her with my life. i hope she knows i love her. she’s family at this point#she’s also literally saved my life before (like deadass called 911 for help)#im glad i had the support system i had. that was a rough situation with so many layers and im glad i got through it#my 22nd year of life was by far the worst of my life and i don’t ever want to put myself in that situation again. im glad i learned.
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prettyincubus · 6 months
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every time a new ep comes out im like i cant believe how into blitz i am i must be completely batshit insane what do i see in him and then he makes me laugh even though my brains torturing me and i remember why i love him so
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waywardsalt · 2 months
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ive spent like 20 minutes trying to world this eloquently but i give up; im a big fan of linebeck just. not being capable of watching over kids not the person to be the guardian of a group of young people he struggles to take care of himself at times and has so much shit going on that it takes about one conversation with oshus for the old man to realize that this guy is. not doing great
#this was gonna be like. a jokey post at first juxtaposing oshus’ expectations vs reality with linebeck but im too emotionally drained#so real linebeck talk in the tags bc idk if ive actually talked much abt like. the specific as on why. iwrite and see him the way i do#likr. off the bat i put him at like 19 in ph and im too fucking tired and just. done rn to justify that like whatever kill me if you wish.#like. hes. been throught a lit hes been abused neglected used ignored hurt ridiculed violated deceived hes so fucking tired#hes worn down over the course of ph it causes him to finally like. express his anguish over what hes been theough its cathartic#hes getting pushed but talking to oshus and being around link loosens him up and he fucking. cries properly yknow#he cries about everything and the last bit of ph hes kind of an emotional wreck but hes finally letting himself feel all that shit#he cries he struggles to articulate himself he has a violent public meltdown as he becomes fed up with his reputation#and it all culminates in bellumbeck just. being a really raw examination of what hes been through and how he feels and what to do now#he hates people he has people he wants to kill people he wanted to kill but after bellumbeck its just. hes tired. hes processed everythjng#and then he needs the post ph crew and everyone they meet along the way to just. be a fucking support system for the first time ever#like post ph hes rhe captain he runs the ship he keeps everyone in line he can do that. but hes softer more vulnerable more self doubting#hes kinder and more hesitant but trying new things and being more openly passionate abt his interests#and he keeps working through his trauma he finds out what else it causes problems for and everyone. supports him#hes not capable of like. being any kind of parental figure to link in ph his perspective on like. how to handle kids is fucked#because his perspective on what a normal childhood should look like is kind of a mess#his perspective on relationships is murky on love on adventure on self expression but post ph hes just. free. tired but free#he manages to take naps the group helps him eat properly he learns his physical boundaries and actually does what he loves#idk. im just. man idk. its still measy but like. my version of linebeck is. i really hate the idea that its so out of character its not him#like. idfk what to even say abt that. idfk what ‘in character’ looks like when you hc a character to be masking in canon#when you hc them to be lying and covering things up and just. subdued bc theyre working on stuff#that they lie and exaggerate their own traits on purpose but let the truth through some cracks like what rhe fuck then#i hate it bc i dont see anyone else think of linebeck anything like this so im scared im fucking wrong somehow#im tired. i recently learned that one of my cats has been burrowing under and chilling under a blanket we cover a couch with#its very cute
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transbee · 7 months
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having did and being online in any capacity is so fucking exhausting because you literally can't go anywhere without seeing the most heinous takes about your existence or validity it's like. can we be normal. can we please be normal and Chill for like two seconds.
#HEADS UP: this accidentally turned into a huge rant/vent feel free to get the hell out el oh el#i try reallly hard not to talk about it too much here because you can. offhandedly mention the mere concept of did or osdd or any#dissociative disorder and its like. people will not shut up about how its not real or how its people being delusional or kids being cringe#like. can we go. two seconds without treating people with mental disorders like a spectacle. please. you dont have to have a ''take'' on it#idk and i also avoid online did communities bc theyre the most exhausting spaces you can ever be in and theres constant fighting about#literally anything and everything. like. maybe i would like to find a space to meet other people with similar experiences to my own.#and we dont get that!! we literally cannot get that. and this goes for a lot of mental health related stuff but like my god#and im very lucky to have other people i know in real life who also have did so i can in some amount have that support system (hah.)#but it is EXHAUSTINGG that people cannot go literally a day without saying something stupid about systems#or i can be following someone for years and unprompted they will saysomething heinous thing about did and hide it behind something like#get a load of how weird and cringey kids are getting online these days.#and CHRISTT thats a whole OTHER issue i REALLY dont wanna talk about because it has its own whole set of nuances but like jeeeesus#is it really so hard for people to grasp that brains when exposed to traumas at a young age will be affected by it in weird ways.#idk man ive been seeing a lot of offhanded disregard for systems recently and it's so normalized and it's starting to get to me i guess#i wish people could just go well this is something i dont understand and dont need to have an opinion on and move on with their lives.#what the hell ever this is all to say having did has impacted my life in a lot of complicated and intricate and hard to explain ways and it#sometimes painful and awful but other times is an incredible experience and ALSO. most IMPORTANTLY !#i should be able to make jokes about BEING FRIENDS with SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG!! in REAL LIFE!!!#and not have to deal with SUICIDE BAIT IN MY INBOXX BECAUSE OF IT!!!#WHATEVERRR !!! RANT OVARRR I HAVE NOODLES TO MAKE AND EAT#.... WITH my friend SHADOW!!!#.txt#and btw this isnt about anyone ik here so dont worry im not upset with any mutuals etc etc and all that.#in fact i love getting the chance to chat about it n it can be fun to teach stuff to people who know how to like...be normal about it LOL#<3
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transboykirito · 1 year
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i still hold onto the idea that when kirito has bad nights he’ll either sleep in with suguha or, if minetaka is working, midori. sugu gives the best comforting hugs and midori just has Mom Comfort that makes him feel super safe
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snekdood · 1 year
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Yknow what makes me reaentful? How ive been sexually abused so much growing up, no one did shit besides shove me off to a therapist, ive been promised by feminist spaces that ill have a place to heal within them, and as soon as my abusive ex tries to smear me and project their behavior on to me by accusing me of doing that shit too, all the sudden everyone acts suspicious, and i still dont get any of that promised healing. Its hard not to feel like my ex did this intentionally to prevent me from having a space to heal. And its my issue with the "believe victims" narrative because it seems to me like people dont actually want to believe victims but to believe the victims they *like* and *agree more with politically*. If people can just say whatever about someone and you feel obligated to believe them because "believe victims", its very clearly going to be exploited by abusive people, and while i dont think we should stop per se, we need to have some sort of actual system to vet who is and isnt telling the truth, like a pseudo-courtroom. At the very least let everyone and their side of the story actually be heard. Bc idk how you guys plan to believe two victims at once who are accusing eachother other than throwing your hands up and picking one or deciding that we're both bad, which doesnt seem very fair to me since people seem to looove demonizing me for no discernable reason.
#anyways ive lost faith in feminist spaces in actually being a place to heal#it kinda just feels like cliques to me dawg.#maybe it used to be sorta healing but i never actually got to find a support system or anything anywhere.#like idk man. maybe the reason ppl go to the right is bc yall are cutthroat and do everything based on vibes.#if i cant even get help and healing from yall like you promise whats the feminism label even for besides for spreading awareness?#because i feel like ill always be excluded because i dont fit the recquired aesthetic.#there needs to be a space for dudes to go to heal too. and id ideally not have to go to one of the mra type spaces.#idk but im just disenchanted with this whole movement. so many unfulfilled promises.#too many terfs infiltrating it also.#im left out in the cold and no one cares and everyone pretends to care about victims but cant even bring themselves to image that i#was the one who was victimized. why should i rely on these spaces at all. its clear yall favor the more fem person in any situation#like this.#also unrelated but related this website is trash and most people on here suck so fucking much.#the mostly cliquey cutthroat spaces for being so 'caring' like you like to think yourselves as.#'oh well we have to be careful so just in case we're gonna kick you out!!' oh really#is that the feminism you were talking about?#youll leave me out on the streets based on a rumor? and if you find out theyre lying then what will you do? are you gonna come over to me#weeping about how you shouldnt have believed them and how sorry you are? bc chances are ill already be dead from starving#but yknow. believe whatever anyone says about someone else. sorry i meant victims*#itd be so so funny to me if someone came up to me with that justification for why they ostracized me and then be like 'how can you be mad!#i didnt know better!! you cant be mad at people for not knowing better >:(' the hell i fucking cant lmao!#yall perpetuated a narrative about me to actively grind my name in the dirt. and im not allowed to be mad?#yall ostracized and excluded me from spaces i need to rely on for community and healing.#yall did nothing for me and threw me in the fucking trash. yeah. i think im allowed to be upset with you and want you to go fuck yourself.#if you believed them and found out theyre a liar. cool. leave me the fuck alone though. go make a post about it and try to rectify the#situation you contributed to you pos.#yknow. maybe itd be one thing if you believed them and i didnt do anything and you apologized.#its a WHOLE OTHER FUCKING THING. WHEN YOU BELIEVE THEM. IM INNOCENT. AND *IM*THE ONE WHO WAS#SEXUALLY ABUSED AND EMOTIONALLY ABUSED TO THE FUCKING MOON AND BACK. and then think an apology is enough.#like go fuck yourself. ive been alone with this trauma this whole time you pieces of shits.
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star-ocean-peahen · 7 months
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After watching Cinderella (the original animated movie, which was my favorite as a child), it strikes me how it solves many common problems people have with this fairy tale. Like:
Why did they try to identify the mystery girl using her shoe size? Because the bullheaded king's only clue to her identity was the shoe the Grand Duke picked up off the steps.
Why didn't the prince recognize her by her face? Because his father wouldn't involve him in the process at all, and wasn't the one going around trying to find her.
Why did the prince want to marry a lady he only met that night? Because his father was going to force him to marry someone, and he genuinely liked this woman.
Why did Cinderella want to marry a man she only met that night? Because marriage was her best and most secure way to freedom. Fucked up, but you can't say it's unrealistic for the setting of a fairy tale. She also genuinely liked him.
If they're using the slipper to find her, wouldn't it be more sensible to search for the person with the other slipper? Yes. The King is purposefully nonsensical and the Duke is purposefully terrified enough of him to carry out his orders to the letter. Furthermore, they end up doing that in the end anyway, because the Duke's glass slipper is shattered, and Cinderella brings out the one she has to prove her identity.
Why didn't the stepmother and stepsisters recognize Cinderella at the ball? Because they were dancing too far away, and then left the party to dance in private, which was possible because the King wanted very badly for his son to hit it off with someone and tried to arrange the best conditions for that to happen.
Why didn't Cinderella save herself? Because in real life, abuse victims should not have to shoulder that responsibility, and usually can't. In real life, you need and deserve an external support system. Asking for help, in this kind of situation, is very important. She is saved by others because she is loved. Because she is not alone. Because she has friends who love her, and want her to be happy and safe and free. Because in real life, people who want to help someone who is suffering are like the mice. We can't pull out miracle solutions, but we can provide companionship and if we're in the right place at the right time, we can help the person find a better life.
Why didn't the fairy godmother save Cinderella from her abusive household, or try to help her sooner? Because she's magic, and magic can't solve your problems. Quote: "Like all dreams, well, I'm afraid it can't last forever." This (and Cinderella's dream of going to the ball) is a metaphor for pleasurable things in bad circumstances. An ice cream won't get rid of your depression, but it will provide you with momentary happiness to bolster you, as well as the reminder that happiness in general is still possible for you. Cinderella doesn't want to go to the ball so she can get away from her stepmother and stepsisters, or so she can meet someone to marry and leave with. She wants to go to the ball to remind herself that she can still have things she wants. That her desires matter. This is important because the movie does a very good job of illustrating Lady Tremaine's subtle abuse tactics, all of which invisibly press the message that Cinderella doesn't matter. While going to the ball and fulfilling her dreams may not be a victory in the material sense, it is still a victory against Lady Tremaine's efforts.
Why is Cinderella's choice to be kind and obedient framed as a good thing, when you are not obligated to be kind to your abuser? This one walks a very fine line, but I think the movie still makes it make sense. Lady Tremaine never acknowledges her cruelty. She always frames her punishments of Cinderella as Cinderella's fault. Cinderella is interrupting, Cinderella is shirking her duties, Cinderella is playing vicious practical jokes. Cinderella is still a member of the family, of course she can go to the ball, provided she meet these impossible conditions. Lady Tremaine's tactics are designed to make Cinderella feel like she must always be in the wrong and her stepmother must always be in the right. If Cinderella calls her stepmother out on her cruelty, or attempts to fight back, Lady Tremaine can frame that as Cinderella being ungrateful, cruel, broken, evil, etc. If Cinderella responds to her stepmother's cruelty defiantly (in the way she's justified to), she's not taking control out of Lady Tremaine's hands. Disobedience can be spun back into her stepmother's control. She wants Cinderella to be angry and sad and show how much she's hurting. So since Cinderella is adapting to her situation, she chooses to be kind. Not only because she naturally wants to be and it's part of her personality, but because it is a form of defiance in its own way, and it allows her to keep a reminder of her agency and value. Her choice to be kind is her chance to keep her own narrative alive: she is not obeying because her stepmother wants her to and she has to do what her stepmother does, but because she wants to. It's a small distinction, but one that makes all the difference in terms of keeping her hope and identity. (Fuck, I wrote a whole paragraph about how this doesn't mean you can't be angry at people who hurt you or that you need to be kind to deserve help, and then deleted it by accident. Uh. Try again.) Expressing anger and pain is an important part of regaining autonomy and healing. Although it is commendable to be kind while you are suffering, it is NOT required for you to get help or be worthy of help. If Cinderella's recovery was explored beyond "happily ever after" she would need to let herself be angry and sad to heal. Cinderella is not only kind because it comes naturally to her, but because it's her defense against the abuse she's suffering. Everyone's story and experiences are different, and one does not invalidate the other.
Bonus round for answers that aren't part of the movie:
Why didn't Cinderella run away? Where would she go? Genuinely, in hundreds-of-years-ago France, where would she go if she snuck out of the window with a change of clothes? With her step-family, she's miserable and abused, but she's fed, clothed, and in no danger of dying or being taken advantage of by anyone other than her stepmother and stepsisters. Even if she escapes and manages to find financial security, her stepmother might be able to find her and get her back.
Why didn't Cinderella burn the house down with them inside it/slit their throats in the night/poison their food/etc.? Because that's a revenge fantasy, and this story is a fantasy about being saved. There's nothing wrong with making Cinderella into a revenge fantasy. That's perfectly fine, as long as you acknowledge that the other type of fantasy is also a valid interpretation. (I mean, the original fairy tale features the stepsisters getting their feet mutilated and all three of them getting their eyes pecked out, so go for it.)
Why isn't Cinderella more proactive in general? Because she's a child who has been abused for the back half of her life, who has had to be focused on survival because. you know. she's an abused kid.
How did she dance in glass slippers? Gotta agree with you there man, that's weird.
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gaysindistress · 2 months
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Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.
Simon Riley masterlist
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1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.
Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.
Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.
No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.
2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.
I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.
The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.
You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.
Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.
In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.
He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.
3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.
Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.
Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.
He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.
After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?
That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.
He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.
You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.
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vaguebloggingextreme · 7 months
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Also, objectively knowing that i have trouble with communicating and maintaining boundaries that I need to emotionally be ok because growing up my boundaries (that I very clearly communicated) were constantly ignored because people thought it was funny and actually trying to figure out how to put those boundaries there now without feeling guilty or like it's a waste of time is a fucking struggle too.
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phantomrose96 · 9 months
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What the hell happens in the pikmin game?? Those little colourful bitches have been around for ages, but i never bothered looking them up, i just figured they were cute little mascots of some game. But your posts are making me question everything. Is it a horror game? (I know i could just google it, but asking you is funnier)
Yeah you're right asking me is much funnier :)
Pikmin is a fun and relaxing game! You play as a little astronaut man who gets to spend his days growing Pikmin, who are sweet and peaceful little plant creatures with leaves, buds, or flowers on their heads. You can corral them around with a little trumpet, like a bouquet of flowers following you through the pretty and whimsical landscapes of planet PNF-404 :)
Wait did I say fun and relaxing?
Sorry, typo.
It's a brutal skill-based survival game (❁´◡`❁)
So then maybe you're wondering, what's up with the Pikmin? What was that about growing a bunch of little flower guys? Well growing the Pikmin is super important!
It's super duper important mainly because you need to replace the Pikmin who die in the carnage of battle for you!
Battle against what?
Everything.
See on PNF-404, Pikmin are the bottom of the food chain. Just about every living breathing creature on this planet is orders of magnitude larger than the Pikmin and munch Pikmin by the hundreds for breakfast. Predators will do this instinctively. They will do this unprompted. They will do this while you're not looking. They will do this endlessly until every last Pikmin is dead.
So... what good are the Pikmin? What chance do they stand?
Really easy. Pikmin are the most violent creatures in the entire game 🥰🥰🥰.
How else do you survive when you're small and fragile other than incredible violence? Pikmin can exist out and about in swarms of up to 100. And the only way to survive predators as small little leaf creatures is to beat those predators to death with incredible mob violence before they can kill all of you.
Pikmin don't die like plants. They die like warriors.
And sometimes, this is the hardest mechanic to handle. Left to their own devices Pikmin will seek to shed blood. It's up to you to call them away from orchestrating their own demise, their own pursuit of the glory of Valhalla. It's in their nature. It's in their plant-blood.
And they go down hard. They shriek when snapped up in the jaws of predators. They glub and wail when drowning in water. They trill out screams when on fire. They choke and cough in poison. They die instantly to electricity. And you'll know a Pikmin is well and truly dead once it lets out a final whimper, and a ghost drifts away from where it once stood. This can happen by the dozens. This can happen to all 100 at once.
So wait, wait I've gotten far ahead of myself. Why the violence? Why the death? Why the fighting? What was that about a little astronaut man?
Well your astronaut man is Olimar, an honest and simple family man who's a freight ship captain from his home planet of Hocotate. He's a truck driver! He's just a guy taking his first vacation in years.
And a meteorite strikes his ship, tearing it to pieces as it crash-lands on a completely uncharted planet. Welcome to PNF-404...
And so you're Olimar. A truck driver. A nice dad. A victim of capitalism with the world's worst boss. Out on vacation.
Your ship is destroyed. No one is coming for you. No one will save you.
The oxygen on PNF-404 is poisonous.
You have 30 days before your life support system runs out.
You have 30 days until you die a brutal and lonely death.
Your only hope is to find every scattered missing piece of your ship--30 of them--strewn across the planet, return them to your ship, and repair it, before your 30 days are up.
But this is simply impossible. You're one tiny little man. You wouldn't be able to lift a single piece of your ship, let alone 30 of them, let alone doing so while fending off the wildlife hellbent on killing you.
But the Pikmin seem to like you...
So all that death? All the carnage and destruction? It's all in the effort to repair Olimar's ship before he suffocates. You pave a path of destruction decorated with the bodies of any creature that stands before you and your missing ship pieces.
The Pikmin do it. The Pikmin trust you. The Pikmin follow your command and die by your command. After all, you're growing their species. Oh did I forget to explain that part? The "how" of how growing Pikmin works?
Simple. Pikmin are grown from the corpses of the creatures they kill :).
If you kill something, the Pikmin take it back to their base and process it for pieces, and grow new Pikmin from it. That's how you get all the nice little flower creatures following you around. :)
Is it good enough? Can you sleep at night knowing that 50 creatures who trusted you implicitly were slaughtered under your misdirection? All to retrieve a hunk of metal which is 1/30 of the hope of getting you home alive? 100 slaughtered? 200? Day 30 is approaching. Things are looking bleak.
You're Olimar. Day 30 has arrived, and you haven't fully reconstructed your ship. You have no option to stay. Your life support has run out. You watch the Pikmin you've left behind, as you attempt to start up your ship which has not been safely repaired.
You try to take off, and try to make it home.
It does not go well.
But at least the Pikmin have another corpse to carry.
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causetheturtle · 1 month
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Obsessed with the Young Royals finale.
Obsessed with Simon, Sara, Wilhelm and Felice driving away from a shutdown Hillerska, free from a system which was never going to accept them, happy and together.
Obsessed with how there’s still a chance Hillerska could reopen because that system is next to impossible to take down and the upper-class rarely face real consequences for their actions.
Obsessed with August’s face when he saw Wilhelm walking away, realising that he was trapped. Wilhelm said August was the heir they needed but he couldn’t have been more wrong - that man has bucket loads of trauma, an eating disorder he isn’t even close to ready to confront and no support system around him, he’s not gonna do much better with the role of Crown Prince than Wilhelm did.
Obsessed with Nils coming out to his friends and them easily accepting him, because their issue with Simon really was the fact that he was poor and a socialist, and Nils both still believes in the system he’s in and his queerness doesn’t destabilise the system the same way Wilhelm’s does.
Obsessed with Stella ending up with Fredrika, because although Rosh might have been fun to hang out with for a night Stella also still believes in and upholds the system she belongs to and Rosh was never going to fit in that system or uphold the traditional feminine values needed to survive in it.
Obsessed with how the monarchy is portrayed as unchangeable and impossible to modernise because it’s built on such outdated ideals.
Obsessed with the mix of both happy and open-ended endings.
I just adore it so much
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absolutely-esme · 3 months
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What do you mean he's not eldritch?
What if all of the members of the Bat Family other than Tim Drake were secretly eldritch abominations?
They all work very hard at pretending to be human, and they've even gotten pretty good at passing. They can even mostly avoid the uncanny valley when in their civilian identities. There was a heck of a learning curve, but they've gotten things figured out for the most part.
Enter: Tim Drake
Weird, poorly socialized, probably autistic Tim Drake
The Bats think they've encountered a fellow eldritch being in disguise, and one that seems like he could use some help blending in. Naturally, they're quick to welcome him into their fold. Jason is delighted to take his turn at being a big brother mentor.
It takes a comedically long time for anyone to realize something's up because there is an absurd amount of overlap between stuff you need to know for masking and stuff you need to know to pass as human.
Meanwhile, Tim is amazed that the Bats have apparently decided he's cool enough to hang out with. It's like something out of his daydreams. They even have good advice for him on problems he hadn't known how to ask about. They are so patient and understanding about it, too. They never get annoyed with him for not already knowing. They also seem to be okay with the bits of weirdness he can't change.
Just weird kid Tim getting bundled into an incredibly helpful and supportive found family of eldritch entities. They're all going to get a good grade in human-ing, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve.
...
I imagine the Bats are various different kinds of eldritch abominations because they're still adopted. They look wildly different when not in human form.
Bruce is a mass of... shadows? Smoke? Something dark and formless that shifts and flows in different ways depending on his mood.
Dick kind of looks like a pile of owls that is also somehow a single body.
Barbara is a spiral galaxy with stars that are also eyes somehow?
Jason is a solid-looking mass of muscle with six strong legs, a thick coat of shaggy hair, a mouth that opens much further along his body than it seems like it should, and even more teeth than you'd expect a mouth that size to have.
Stephanie Brown is kind of like an incredibly dense storm system with purple glitter.
Cassandra is a silhouette through which undiscovered nebulae can be seen. What she is a silhouette of depends on her mood.
Tim, they have only ever seen in his meticulously well-crafted human form. He's really good at that part even if he needed some help with the behavioral bits.
Damian is half human. Talia saw a mass of living darkness trying really hard to pretend to be a man and decided she was into that.
...
Dick: So, eye contact is actually pretty simple once you have the formula figured out. You need to cycle between looking at the other person and looking at something else at the appropriate frequency. If you look at them too much it will come across as staring. If you look away for too long they'll think you're not paying attention to them. You'll need to experiment to figure out the appropriate frequency.
Tim: *frets*
Jason: You don't have to look straight at their eyes, just in the general direction of their face.
Tim: Oh! I can do that!
...
I think Eldritch Bruce having history with the league of assassins in a markedly less inentional way than Canon would be funny. Like, you'd think an encounter between an eldritch abomination and a cult would be deliberate on someone's part, but no.
Bruce was still young and unskilled at differentiating between normal and abnormal human behavior.
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astonmartinii · 28 days
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fatherhood looks good on you | george russell social media au
pairing: george russell x fem albon reader
there comes a point in the relationship where you take it to the next level
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
- part of the brother's best friend series -
yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 783,409 others
tagged: georgerussell63
yourusername: looking so good i want to give you a baby
view all comments
user1: WHAT
user2: we really be saying anything on the internet these days
alexalbon: SHUT THE FUCK UP THE LITERAL ONLY RULE OF THIS RELATIONSHIP WAS THAT YOU KEEP THIS SHIT TO YOURSELVES
yourusername: gosh a girl can't have baby fever in peace these days
alexalbon: unless that baby is coming by stork you can put that talk on hold real fast
yourusername: just because lily is busy does not mean you have to take it out on me and george
georgerussell63: alex is it illegal for a man to be handsome?
alexalbon: if it's illegal to be handsome, you'd have the cleanest record known to man
yourusername: STOP RIGHT THERE DIDN'T YOU KNOW THAT LYING IS A SIN
alexalbon: i'm not going to say YOUR boyfriend is hot, no.
yourusername: just because i got in there first 🙄
user3: i don't think she's serious but also george with a baby is just too cute not to happen
user4: george is the perf instagram boyf like he's so ready to pose
landonorris: well that definitely is something we all want to know
yourusername: i know you would LOVE to know ALL the details norris
georgerussell63: she's never going to let your crush go lando, you gotta just hold it
landonorris: i was THIRTEEN
yourusername: you don't love me anymore? 😕
landonorris: i don't know why i always get in these arguments with you
user5: i love how george just instigates things for y/n lmao
user6: your boyfriend should always support your mess
liked by yourusername
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georgerussell63
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tagged: yourusername
georgerussell63: fatherhood is a different beast
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user8: alright i am so confused
user9: there's no way y/n can actually be pregnant i saw her down at least three pornstar martinis in hospitality this weekend
alexalbon: this better be a joke or i'm gonna kick you so hard you get a free non-reversible vasectomy
yourusername: stop the violence!
alexalbon: THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR GLEE REFERENCES
yourusername: someone is channelling some serious sue vibes right now
georgerussell63: let it be known i like my reproductive systems the way they are
alexalbon: that's kind of the point of a threat, you aren't supposed to want it
yourusername: he likes threats if they come from the right person
alexalbon: i am about one more comment away from knocking down your hotel room door and throwing george from the balcony
yourusername: and deprive our child from a father... alex i expected better from you
alexalbon: that's it i'm on my way
georgerussell63: @mercedesamgf1 PLEASE PROTECT ME I AM PRECIOUS CARGO
user10: these bitches got me actually combing through tiktoks and hospitality menus to see if y/n was actually drinking
user11: i'm gonna be real angry if this is all a big joke
user12: i know kimi antonelli is young but this is NAWT the way to announce him for 2025
charles_leclerc: guys i need you to spell everything out i am confused
georgerussell63: no can do charles you gotta follow the breadcrumbs just like everyone else
yourusername: it's right there sharl
charles_leclerc: actually alex, wait, i'm coming with you these hoes are annoying me
landonorris: don't forget me
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yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, maxverstappen1 and 1,409,556 others
tagged: georgerussell63
yourusername: our baby is here!
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user15: A CAT?
user16: i just knew george russell would be a ragdoll girl
georgerussell63: they were right i AM a girl dad
yourusername: finally dilf status
georgerussell63: a title i do not take lightly
yourusername: i can confirm libido has gone UP since becoming parents!
landonorris: shut THE FUCK UP
yourusername: you'll understand in time lando
georgerussell63: you just found yourself at the bottom of the babysitting list
landonorris: i don't want to look after it
yourusername: IT? IT? HOW DARE YOU?
georgerussell63: she can hear you lando that's so disrespectful :(
landonorris: ??? i'm not saying sorry to a cat over instagram comment
georgerussell63: expect the same courtesy when i take you out first corner next weekend
user17: i fear that was not a threat but a promise from george
user18: it's kinda hot
liked by yourusername
alexalbon: NEW ALBON PETS LORE AND NONE OF YOU TOLD ME
yourusername: ella can't wait to meet the gang
alexalbon: no offence but ella is kinda a shit name
yourusername: short for mozzarella
alexalbon: i take it back
georgerussell63: cause she's the lil pearl of our life
alexalbon: i love her already
user19: so we went through all this tomfoolery for a cat? a cat called mozzarella?
user20: you have to agree it's iconic
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alexalbon: i knew @albon_pets would get george at some point
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user22: i love how alex became the chill guy again after it was revealed he was not yet an uncle
georgerussell63: hard on the yet
alexalbon: too soon george
user23: the albon pets signature of approval is a bigger sign that george is in the gamily than if he actually proposed to y/n
user24: they've got a baby now he's an albon
yourusername: horsey is going to kick off over having to share george with me and mozzie
albon_pets: bring it on - horsey
yourusername: alex i'm not arguing with you pretending to be horsey, this ain't roscoe and lewis
lewishamilton: rude
roscoelovescoco: meanie
yourusername: did you just call me mean as your dog?
lewishamilton: you were extra mean
yourusername: fine lets let mozzie and roscoe scrap it out at silverstone - she's got the sass of both me and george btw x
lewishamilton: stay AWAY FROM MY DOG
user25: the merc garage gonna be a whole petting zoo at silverstone i can't
user26: you wanna catch up with red bull? sell meet and greet tickets to the petting zoo
maxverstappen1: this is my official invitation to a play date with jimmy and sassy
yourusername: WE'LL BE THERE
maxverstappen1: is mozzarella civilised?
georgerussell63: of course my child has manners?
maxverstappen1: you crash into people all the time, i had to check
georgerussell63
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georgerussell63: all of the family here for the home race
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user27: y/n wearing mozzarella in a baby harness i need to be put down
user28: that really is their child oh my
yourusername: make our baby proud georgie
georgerussell63: anything for you two xx
alexalbon: why do i never get these nice comments
yourusername: they're transmitted through our genes x
yourusername: also george more important 👍🏻
alexalbon: i'm literally your brother? your flesh and blood?
yourusername: george cuter
georgerussell63: can't argue with that
alexalbon: well of course he is this ain't alabama. (sorry logan)
logansargent: i'm from florida?
yourusername: even worse, my condolences
georgerussell63: can we get back to talking about how dashing i am?
yourusername: yes!
alexalbon: NO. SAY GOOD LUCK Y/N
yourusername: good luck y/n
alexalbon: what if i crash and you never said good luck, think about it y/n
yourusername: good luck alex (you're an asshole for weaponising the sport (and you being shit at it))
user29: i think i had about three strokes trying to follow this argument
user30: poor logan is just a victim of the albons at this point
landonorris: have a baby and forget about the rest of us, i see how it is
yourusername: you will never measure up to mozzie lando i hope you know that
georgerussell63: what y/n means is that i love my friends, but a child is a gift from god
landonorris: it's a cat. she can't even talk
yourusername: and yet she makes better points than you, makes you think
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yourusername: fatherhood looks good on you
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user31: mozzarella is so big already 🥹
user32: maybe i'm worse than them cause i'm attached to mozzie as well
georgerussell63: no one else i'd rather be cat parents to
yourusername: you're such a romantic
georgerussll63: such a pleasure to take this next step with the love of my life
yourusername: i love you more
georgerussell63: not possible
alexalbon: you being gross about mozzie was better than what ever the fuck this is
yourusername: @lilymunhe does he not treat you right?
lilymunhe: he's a romantic really, he's just exhausting the protective big brother act until george finally proposes
alexalbon: sue me
maxverstappen1: still waiting on the play date ...
yourusername: monaco?
maxverstappen1: done
yourusername: jimmy, sassy and ella will be like the charlie's angles reincarnated
georgerussell63: can't wait for you to see her IMPECCABLE manners
maxverstappen1: okay princess george
yourusername: hey only i can call george princess
maxverstappen1: you keep that to yourself
user33: disappointed that with all the tomfoolery around mozzie that there was no maternity photoshoots
yourusername: oh do not give me a challenge...
fin.
note: NEW SERIES ALERT? i'll create a masterlist after i post this. i hope you enjoyed, this one is more of a tame brother's best friend take but dw they can get more beefy and more sassy - send me any pairings you might like to see! thanks for reading x
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apas-95 · 2 months
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How do you not realize your Marxist ideology is false when it says shit like a trans black woman small business owner is oppressing her cis white man employees?
I don't think you're, like, genuinely asking, or are curious, here, but I'll answer anyways, for everyone else who might be confused on issues like this: it's intersectionality.
You could make this argument about essentialy any axis of oppression - 'how do you not realise your LGBT ideology is false when it says shit like a cishet black person is oppressing their white trans gay employees', or, conversely, 'how do you not realise your racial ideology is false when it says shit like a white trans gay person is oppressing their cishet black employees'.
The point here isn't to have a rock-paper-scissors, Pokémon type-effectiveness ranking of which axes of oppression 'outrank' which others, it's to understand that each axis of oppression is an entirely distinct social system that overlaps with the other. A black business owner suffers from the social system of antiblackness, and benefits from the social system of capitalism. The specific overlap of their blackness and their class character also gives them an entirely unique character with regards to their segment of society. If they are USAmerican, for example, in their specific case the state and progress of the national liberation movement in the US means that they make up the rear of the revolutionary movement, despite being themselves petit-bourgeois. These systems of oppression are qualitatively different, and cannot be simply, quantitatively, summed up against each other.
With this in mind, it should be understood that the Marxist understanding of class as the principal contradiction does not mean that class is the most important, overruling factor, and that other axes should be ignored. Class is considered the principal contradiction because it is the contradiction that all other axes of oppression, genuine in their own rights, grew out of. Antiblackness was created by the slave trade (not vice-versa), and the slave trade was created by the growing European bourgeoisie's need to extract surplus-value, in the collapse of the Feudal economy. In the example you gave, the petit-bourgeois business owner exploits the labour of her workers, and is supported in doing so by an entire legal, political, and philosophical system based on the expropriation of the proletariat. She is also herself repressed and exploited on the basis of race, gender, and transness. These do not cancel each other out. However, given the ultimate source of racial, patriarchal, and cissexist oppress is political-economic class, her ability to genuinely fight for her interests in those fields will be hamstrung by her class position - just as her ability to attain and maintain that class position in the first place is itself hamstrung by her oppression in other fields.
Ultimately, there are no simple rules that society can be flattened down by. Each and every instance and scenario must be investigated in its own right. The idea that people are driven to Marxism because it provides an easy or simplified way of looking at the world is (perhaps unfortunately!) wrong, it actually means a lot more work!
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